


Birthday Breakfast

by MrTyeDye



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Birthday, General fiction, Literature, Sibling Bonding, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrTyeDye/pseuds/MrTyeDye
Summary: It's Lola and Lana's birthday, and Lincoln is in charge of making them breakfast. How hard could it be?





	Birthday Breakfast

It was 6:00 a.m. when Lincoln's alarm started screeching. On most mornings, this would be his cue to hammer the snooze button, go back to sleep, and wait ten minutes for the alarm to start blaring again (at which point, he would hit the button again and repeat the process three or four times). Today, though, he hopped to his feet, got dressed, and marched downstairs to the kitchen to get to work. This could only mean one thing; it was somebody's birthday.

It seemed like every other week, there was another holiday that the Loud House had to prepare for. In addition to all of the standard holidays, they had a grand total of twelve birthday celebrations to plan each year. Fortunately, the labor could be divided among the other family members, so no one Loud ever felt overwhelmed. Lincoln's assigned task varied from birthday to birthday, but on this particular day, he was in charge of preparing the birthday breakfast.

Now, most boys his age didn't know how to make anything more complicated than scrambled eggs and toast, but Lincoln wasn't a typical boy. The experience of growing up with ten sisters taught him a lot that he wouldn't have learned otherwise, including a decent number of useful recipes. For one thing, he learned ten different ways to cook an egg, each one tailored to the taste of a different sister. (Luan's "funny side up", a fried egg with a cubic yolk, was by far the hardest to master.)

For this birthday breakfast, though, Lincoln had to pull off something  _really_ special. See, he wasn't just cooking for one birthday girl; he was cooking for two. It was June 1st, the shared birthday of the twins, Lola and Lana.

Of all the birthdays, Lola and Lana's was undoubtedly the most arduous to prepare for. Not only did the Loud family have to do birthday shopping for two different kids, but they also had to plan a party that would make them both happy, which was much easier said than done. Any theme that was too messy or boyish would upset Lola, while any theme that was too prissy or girlish would displease Lana; balance was key.

But as different as Lola and Lana were, Lincoln knew that they were united in their love of sugar. So just for them, Lincoln would prepare the most heart-stopping breakfast they ever had- pancakes with chocolate chips, marshmallows and whatever else he could find in the pantry. If he could just keep them happy and placated for about thirty minutes, his mission would be a success.

As soon as he reached the kitchen, Lincoln took a sip of cola, slapped himself awake and rolled up his sleeves.  _Game time._

Luna had taught him how to make pancakes from scratch a few months prior, and while he could never make his as fluffy and rich as hers, he still managed to get the basics down. As he worked, Luna's instructions echoed in his head.

_"_ _All right, bro. The first thing you gotta do is make your batter. Take one and a half cups of flour, and sift that in with three teaspoons of baking powder. Then you add a lil' bit of sugar and salt- not_ _ too _ _much."_

Lincoln followed most of those instructions to the letter, but he disregarded the last part; as far as the twins were concerned, there was no such thing as too much sugar.

_"_ _Got it? Good. So then you take that mound of dry ingredients and make a little indent at the top with your finger. And that's where you'll pour in the milk and eggs."_

Lincoln followed through, giving the wet ingredients a moment to soak into the dry ones before mixing them together.

_"_ _After that, you just mix it 'til it's smooth. And then the_ _ real _ _fun can begin."_

Lincoln grabbed a whisk and went to town, using all of his muscle power to whip the whisk around and mash the ingredients together.  _Stir, whip, stir, whip, whip, whip, stir_ , he chanted to himself.  _Stir, whip, stir, whip, whip, whip, stir._

Once he beat the mixture into a smooth, homogenous paste, it was time for his favorite part of the process: customization.

_"_ _Now you just raid the pantry, pick out whatever you like and fold it into the mix. I like to add Skittles to mine!"_

He marched up to the pantry, threw open the doors, grabbed every bag of bite-sized confections he could find, and dumped their contents into the bowl. First came the chocolate chips and the mini marshmallows; those were essential. Then, some cake sprinkles left over from Lucy's birthday party a month ago (all black, by her request). Then, some pecans, just for the heck of it.

Finally, for the finishing touch, Lincoln popped open a half- finished package of Oreos, dumped them onto the counter, pounded them to bits with the meat tenderizer, and sprinkled their remains into the bowl. Lola and Lana were going to  _freak_ once they took their first bite.

Once Lincoln folded all of the toppings into the batter, it was time for the final step- cooking the pancakes.

_"_ _So, first, you heat up the pan, and take a piece of butter and spread it around the bottom. That's just to keep the pancakes from sticking. Then, when the pan's all good and hot and buttery, you pour the batter on and let 'em cook. And I gotta tell you, bro, there is_ _ nothing _ _like watching a pancake come to life. It's too dope for words."_

She was right. The sight of a blob of batter getting cooked into a bronze, sun-kissed, fluffy pastry, all while the scent of melting butter and chocolate filled his nostrils… it was almost overwhelmingly beautiful. Each time he flipped a steaming, freshly cooked pancake onto the table, he had to deny himself the temptation to take a bite (in part since Lola would almost definitely notice if he did).

Lincoln had just piled the last pancake onto the platter when he heard the pitter-patter of four little feet descending the stairs.  _Perfect timing._

As their footsteps drew closer, he stood by the kiddie table with his chest puffed out, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. His heart fluttered with pride when he treated himself to a glance of the fully-loaded, diabetes-inducing pancake stack beside him. To him, this caloric behemoth was his culinary magnum opus.

The two pajama-clad twins stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing sleep out of their eyes as they entered. "Good morning, Lincoln," they muttered in unison. "What's for breakfa…a…?"

Their tired eyes burst open with surprise as soon as they got a good look at the table before them. Then, once the collective aroma of the sweets wafted past them, they both broke out into massive, open mouthed grins.

"That answer your question?" asked Lincoln.

The two of them ran up to their big brother and tackle-hugged him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" cried Lola.

"You're the coolest big brother ever!" cried Lana.

Lincoln grinned, knelt down and wrapped an arm around each of them. "It was my pleasure," he said. "Happy birthday."

With that, the two of them took their spots at the table, which had already been set up for them. Lincoln took his spot as well, but for the most part, he was just there to watch them. As hungry as he was, he was more than happy to let Lola and Lana have the lion's share of the breakfast he prepared.

But just as Lola was about to snag a pancake from the top of the stack, Lana cut her off.

"Hold on there, Lola!" she said. "I'm not so sure you should be eating this."

Lola gave Lana a quizzical look. "Why not?"

"Because…"

A snicker escaped Lana's lips. "…because you're not gonna win any more of those pageants if you get  _fat_!"

Lola let out a horrified gasp. "I am  _not_ getting fat!"

"Are too!" Lana scooted her chair closer to Lola's and started poking her in the belly with her fork. "You're turning into a little piglet! Piggy piggy piggy!"

Lola glowered at her twin, snatched up her fork and started poking her back. "Yeah, well, look who's talking, tubby! You're the fattest one in the house!"

"Nuh-uh! Only girly girls get fat. Girls like me get  _pudgy_."

"Girls,  _please_!" cried Lincoln, grabbing both of the twins and pushing them away from each other. "Neither of you are fat, okay? Just eat your breakfast."

" _Fine_ ," huffed Lola, who continued to glare at Lana as she scooted back to her original position.

Lana, meanwhile, was sizing up the decadent pancake stack, drooling all the while. She stood up and lunged for the top pancake, but stopped herself short as soon as she got a good look at it.

"After you, dear sister," she said, withdrawing her fork giving Lola an amiable smile.

Lola narrowed her eyes at Lana as she skewered the top pancake and dragged it onto her plate. As soon as she looked down at the pancake she had taken, she began to scowl.

"Hey! The chocolate chips in this pancake are all melted!"

"Yeah, they taste better that way," said Lana. "You're welcome."

"Well, if that's the way you feel, then  _you_ take it," Lola said, pushing her plate over toward Lana.

"I mean, I thought I was doing you a favor, but okay," Lana said with a shrug. She grabbed Lola's plate and started digging into the pancake voraciously. "Oh, hey, I got one with crushed up Oreos!  _Sweet!_ "

Lana's table manners were never outstanding, but on this morning, she was every etiquette coach's worst nightmare: chewing with her mouth open, rarely bothering to use her napkin, and capping off every other bite with a monstrous belch. Every second of her grotesque display caused Lola to cringe.

"Ugh, you could at  _least_ say 'excuse me'," Lola said with a snort.

Lana just scoffed, leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the table. "It's my birthday, Lola. I can do what I want."

Flecks of mud and stray blades of grass started flaking off the bottom of Lana's slippers and onto the table, causing Lola to gag.

"Well, it's  _my_ birthday, too," said Lola, "so whatever I say goes. And  _I_ say mind your manners!"

She leaned over towards Lincoln gave him a few sharp tugs on his sleeve. "Lincoln, can you please tell Lana to stop being gross?"

"Says the girl who once went a  _week_ without changing her undies!" Lana retorted.

"I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE, YOU JERK!"

Lola threw down her fork, leaped over the table and tackled Lana headfirst, sending the two of them crashing down onto the kitchen floor with a resounding clang. Lincoln half-hoped that the fall would cause one of them to start to cry, if only because it would bring their fight to an abrupt end. Alas, no such luck.

"DIRTY NEANDERTHAL!" screamed Lola.

"LITTLE GOODY TWO-SHOES!" hollered Lana.

"CLOD!"

"SNOB!"

"VAGRANT!"

"SISSY!"

On any other day, Lincoln would just sit back, enjoy the fireworks, and wonder where a six-year-old was learning words like "vagrant" and "neanderthal". This fight, though… this fight  _hurt_. As the two twins traded blows, Lincoln slumped back in his chair, letting the feeling of failure wash over him. All Lincoln wanted to do was treat the two of them to a fun, cheerful birthday morning, and he couldn't even do that. The few times he tried to yell "Lola!" or "Lana!" provoked no response from either of them. He couldn't try to physically break them up, as he feared that that would end in at least one of them getting hurt. All he could do was sigh, put his head down on the table, and pray that they'd burn themselves out.

"AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE, LITTLE MISS- whoa, whoa, whoa, time out, time out."

In the midst of their altercation, Lana caught a glimpse of Lincoln out of the corner of her eye. She took her hands off of Lola, stepped back and pointed in Lincoln's direction.

"Lola, I... I think we messed up," she said, eyes drifting towards the floor.

And just like that, all of their rage disappeared. The two of them slowly crept up to their big brother, unsure of what they'd done to him and fearing what the answer might be.

"Lincoln, what's the matter?" asked Lola.

The only response Lincoln gave was an elongated moan of, "Whyyyyy...?"

The twins exchanged befuddled glances before turning back to him. "Why what?" asked Lana.

Suddenly, Lincoln snapped up his head, revealing his frazzled, despairing eyes. "Why can't I ever stop you two from fighting?!" he cried. "All I wanted was to give you two a fun little breakfast to kick off your birthday, but I couldn't even manage that. Can't you two keep away from each others' throats for just one day?"

Lincoln wasn't entirely sure how the twins would respond to that outburst. As far as he knew, there were two different possible outcomes. The first possibility was that the two of them would burst into tears and beg for his forgiveness, and then they'd vow to never fight again and eat their breakfast in peace- which, admittedly, wasn't very likely. The second possibility was that they'd mutter some half-hearted apology to him, eat their breakfast, and go right back to fighting as soon as they left the kitchen- which was what he expected.

But there was a third possibility that Lincoln hadn't anticipated, and the twins both broke out into fits of laughter that sent them rolling all over the kitchen floor. Lincoln was almost too flabbergasted to respond.

"I- wha-the-  _why are you laughing_?!" he sputtered. A few seconds passed before one of them found the wherewithal to respond.

"You... you really thought we'd stop fighting just 'cause it's our birthday?" Lana asked as she picked herself up off the floor. "Come on, Lincoln. You've gotta know it doesn't work like that."

"Yeah, if anything, we're gonna be fighting  _more_  today," Lola added, rising to her feet and brushing herself off. "I don't know what birthdays mean to you, Lincoln, but to  _me_ , it means you get to do whatever you like."

"And we  _like_  to push each others' buttons!" Lana said, giving Lola a couple of pokes in the ribs. "But it's not 'cause we don't love each other; it's just sort of what we do."

The twins' infectious cheeriness rubbed off on Lincoln, and he started to giggle, in spite of himself.

"I guess you're right," he said. "I mean, not everyone shows love the same way. I was just worried that I had ruined things for you."

"Of course not!" exclaimed Lola. "We're both having a ton of fun. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Lincoln. "All the same, though, I worked really hard on this breakfast, and I'd really appreciate it if you ate it. Can you at least do that?"

"Sure!" the twins declared in unison.

Lana walked up to the table and pulled out Lola's chair for her. "After you, prissy pants," she said with a grin.

"Why, thank you, snot breath," said Lola as she took her seat.

Lincoln sighed with relief, slouched back in his chair, and watched the two of them dig in. He may have had to get up at 6 in the morning to put this together, but he was more than satisfied with the results.

"Hey, Lincoln? These pancakes are a little dry. Could you go get the syrup?"


End file.
